One of my favorite Christian writers, Beth Moore, has written about when you find yourself in a pit and breaking yourself free. It resonated with me for years for various reasons, and you can see why her platform was truly built from this concept. The idea of finding yourself in a storm, tough times, challenging circumstances and struggling with personal chains; is so universal. We all have our stories to own and walk through. She writes about how you can put yourself in the pit or someone else or life circumstances can throw you in a pit. But what about once you get yourself out? What comes next? I found myself spending all my energy surviving a pit, that once I got out bits and pieces of myself began to emerge that were stifled. Deep in my soul, I never lost who I was, and writing again is part of coming back to what was dimmed for too long. Making meaning of the trial, and standing in my light and story. Rising to flourish.
So here I am dreaming, reflecting, healing, embracing and wrestling with ideas and words again. My heart is free to wrestle with those things now. I persevered, stayed true, unlocked the chains, stepped out, broke free, and God is taking the ashes and making them beautiful. He is taking the shattered clay and creating something new, but this time with a patina finish that holds a story of depth. I wouldn’t change a single piece of that shattered clay because I held it together for so long, and now I am giving it to Him to redeem, and make every piece into His next masterpiece. Bob Goff says “It has always seemed to me that broken things, just like people, get used more; its probably because God has more pieces to work with.” Our shattered pieces, our storms, our new beginnings, our pain, failures, broken hearts….all opportunity. Opportunity to embrace your next season, shed what is no longer meant for us. Flourish
We hate waiting for that time to fully flourish don’t we? I will admit patience is not one of my strong suits, and an area God is always coming up with creative ways to work in me. The wait may feel motionless, but the stirring is in the refinement, growth, answers, beauty, love, faithfulness, longing, and resilience formed, revealed and uncovered in our waiting. Our hearts are prepared, our strength is formed, and our faith is sharpened. I read a stunningly truthful quote today from a dear friend who has been with me every step of the way, that reads “Sometimes it is the pause and not the chase that leads us where we are supposed to be.” Today that sparked the manifestation of this blog after a long hiatus from writing. But there was waiting before this passage came to be. 7 years and now 7 months of waiting... Shedding, healing, sifting, and steeping in thoughts, themes, lessons and reflections. Hard earned personal truths.
My divorce started seven months ago and has been final for a couple now, and immediately when the process started my heart was being pulled back into writing. It was as if as soon as I found the courage to step forward in my story, my soul ached to rumble and make meaning of the pain through writing. The last time I had written, it was a book called Patina, about the story of the beauty of things broken and imperfect. God’s ways are so much better. The irony in me writing my first and only book about the beauty of things broken and imperfect, and then finding myself years later after my own journey of broken and hurt; to write again is too good. God is too good. Coincidence? Happenstance? For me, no. I believe that is God winking back at our journey and letting us know he is guiding the ride in every step, making meaning and weaving. Taking what could have destroyed us, to refine us. But we have to let Him.
God has been whispering thoughts to write for several months now, but equally pressing in messages of wait in the recalibrating journey. Themes of pray, storms, water, rain, perseverance… from sermons, words from friends, passages that found me, cards, texts, conversations. Words speaking straight to my heart from pastors, authors…I believe God does that on purpose. And how tender that He loves your heart and mine that much, to patiently weave these subtle but meaningful life changing messages into our lives if we are listening and willing to internalize them. He whispers His truths, notes, guidance, messages to us in our everyday lives. A God that loves us enough to orchestrate and fine tune the details of our lives. Constantly seeking our heart in a song, in a friend, in a word… Are we expectantly waiting and listening? Are we holding space and being present to hear them? Sometimes when I feel God stirring something in me, I begin taking journal notes in my phone, screenshots, writing down words, quotes, song lyrics, experiences that find me…and it reveals a promise on my heart, and a balm for my spirit. I start to uncover what God is up to in my heart. He gives me a thread and I get to start weaving out the message He wants me to hear and live out.
I didn’t have the space for writing and to put together the words to describe the battle when I was treading water, keeping my head above, waiting for the next wave. But God held space. He saw me through the storm, has calmed the waves, and I now find myself back to the page, calmly slickening and skimming my hands through the water, attune to the ripple of what He might have for me next. This time my heart is still brave and open, but at peace.
Today in Arizona there was a possibility of rain, and the expectant rain in the desert got me thinking today. The hot winds of Arizona whisking through periodically giving slight relief of movement from the unrelenting sun as I type on the patio; remind me those winds are bringing restorative refreshing rain and change. He is still holding space. Holding space for me to embrace the refinement done in the waiting, recalibrate; and when that nourishing rain comes…the flourish.
We often hear the metaphor of a storm when it comes to our challenges, and rain as a dark or bad thing, and those metaphors are powerful. However, what about the desert waiting for the rain? That rain is going to nourish, and the earth is going to embrace, soak up every drop, and open itself up to what comes down. I think there is a difference in that kind rain. My heart has been through the storm, powered through, survived. I came out the other side. I used the storm to push to my somewhere new, and learn the resilience and grit of my heart. But now I am the desert. Waiting expectantly. Dry from giving so much and ready to soak up the good. Remaining faithful for the best kind of rain. The rain you don’t want to put your head down, rush through, brace your shoulders because the wind is lashing it in your face. But the expectant rain where you breathe in the smell of when it starts hitting the dry earth, you open your arms and let it fall down your face and wet your hair. The kind where you don’t rush to get out of it, but you soak it up. You taste it. Heart to heaven. And you know. You are in the moment. You let it cover you up. That is the rain I am ready for. The kind of rain you appreciate because its soft, nourishing, refreshing, life giving; tender. And you know how to embrace it, because you have been through the storms when the rain was cruel and unrelenting. You know the power in the same sky that once made you fear the rain and storm would nearly wash you away; can also give new life. This time there is a different kind of rain coming. And God is holding space for you to be ready for the tenderness and holiness of it.
I picked words for the year and I thought they would be redeem and flourish. Redeem the pain. Redeem my story. Take it and make beauty from ashes. And I picked that word on New Years Eve watching fireworks with my parents when we had officially come to agreements in the divorce. But I realized the redeeming has already been done. “Fear not for I have redeemed you” (Isaiah 43:1) Put that down. Lay that pain you have already found yourself through at His feet. You have released it already. It’s time to expectantly wait for the flourish, and in order to do that you and I need to let the pause lead us, and embrace the wait. We need to prepare ourselves for that flourish. Make room for the growth. Wait confidently and expectantly for what God has for us.
So often in our hustle culture we hear we should be going out and making things happen, hustling for our worthiness, going after that job, that body, that next accomplishment, that next best thing to fill the space. Or as Christians even that next worthy endeavor and good work. But more is not more. Are we holding space for God to do his best work? Are we holding space for our hearts to be refined? Are we willing to be vulnerable and open? Are we pausing enough to make room for others to come alongside us in our journey? Are we holding space for the right things to come to us, or hustling for a less than quality version of ourselves, a less developed answer for our lives, our careers, our souls, our relationships, because we are too busy to take the time to pause or wait for the reveal of our next best next step… our best yes. Recalibrate, refocus, rest, heal, wait. Wait for what He has for you.
I came out of a long journey of processing, reconciling, persevering and I wanted to finally release from the pain, and move straight to the flourish. But He has this sweet soft tender message of wait for me. Embrace the wait. At the end of the day we have to listen to and follow God’s spirit and whispers more than our own hearts and feelings because they can have us sabotaging. We won’t have the space and bandwidth to truly soak up what is coming. My heart may think it’s ready and longing, and maybe it truly is, but God’s truth tells me to trust in the wait and rely on his perfect timing. Because no matter how long it takes, that flourish and promise from God is worth the pause.
A recent sermon that had me crying, unashamed, fully vulnerable, leaning onto my sweet mom's shoulder was from Mary Shannon Hoffpauir on Mother's Day about "Can I really Trust God?" She talked about God giving her the words "Wait. Watch. Pray." We want to “do” we don’t want to “wait”. We think we have taken all we can take and God is being cruel in making us wait even longer. That seared straight through me and spoke to the aching my heart has to be safe, treasured and seen. But God tells us there is so much more to what He is doing. He is holding that space for us to heal, grow, learn, reflect, and become. He sees and treasures you. Embrace that tender space he is holding for you. Choose to see it as a gift. The waiting is the gift. In that waiting and pause you will be led exactly where you need to be.
There is a beautiful promise of love in that waiting. Of blessing and treasure. Of deepened longing. Of sweet rain that wouldn’t feel the same without the expectant build up and desire in the wait. We will miss the richness of the treasure if we miss the beauty in the wait. Do the inner work in the pause. The waiting is sometimes not directly about you, but what is being prepared for you. My heart has a lot of passion, grit and grace to give, but I will wait for God to lead it where it should truly go and be treasured. You may find yourself waiting for the answers, the other side, that other person, that other space, the lesson, an explanation, the next chapter to open up. If it is right and meant for you, let God lead you and bring you to it. Hold room and protect that space. It’s a beautiful thing to hold room for someone or something that is set apart for you. We are all holding room in some way and we all need room on our journey. Room to grow, to evolve, to feel, to change, to make a mistake and be loved anyway, to pursue dreams, to grieve, to be imperfect, to be afraid but showing up anyway, to stumble.. We are all holding space in some way, so what or who are you holding space for? God is holding room for you.
The father waited for the prodigal son. The expectant mom waits. The desert waits for the rain. Your father in heaven is waiting to be re-united with you. God could take away the wait and bring us to him now, but he loves us too much. He does his best work in the journey from broken to meaning. He wants to see what we do with the wait. So what will you do with your wait? Don’t hustle it away. Dig deep instead. Grow those roots while you wait so you can soak up that expectant nourishing rain when it comes and open those arms to the heavens. If you are reading these words and know me at all, you know I will be dancing in that rain. In the meantime hold space for you and your heavenly Father, hold space for the ones you love, and show up for them in that space. Trust in the waiting. Wait for the promise. Let the pause and God’s truth lead you.
“That’s why I don’t think there’s any comparison between the present hard times, and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what’s coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile the joyful anticipation deepens…Meanwhile the moment we get tired of waiting God’s spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans.” -Roman 8:18-39
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” –Isaiah 43:2